Beauty and the Dragon
by Lady of the Manor22
Summary: "Why was he doing this? Why was he being so gentle when he was supposed to be t-taking her innocence?" This was not the Draco she knew. He was anything but gentle. But before she could think anything else, he slipped something shiny on her finger.
1. Where is my Wand?

**Author's Note**: Firstly, this is my first fic. Now I know sometimes when I read that I think, "Oh man, a beginner?" But let me tell you: I am welcoming you to give me positive feedback on what you'd like to see, what I effed up on, etc, and who knows. I may even give you a shout out! Or a cookie :)  
>Anywho, this is my stuff. If you love Dramione, I love you!<br>Also! This chapter is Un-betaed because I want you guys to see how my thought process works raw, and then if anyone wants to offer to Beta for me, I would truly love you!

**Happy Reading, Loves!**

* * *

><p><strong>Where is my Wand?<strong>

In the midst of a thick lush forest, a tent stood tall against the raging wind. It appeared to be the size of a regular muggle one-room tent. But upon entering, it opened up to be the size of large bedroom, complete with kitchenette (composed of a portable camping stove, a bag of food that was to last another month or so, and a bowl that magically filled with water for hand washing). Laid out in a row were three cots, not particularly comfy, but sufficient enough to sleep peacefully on. Peacefully, that is, if it was anyone other than Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger trying to sleep on these sufficient cots with all the horrific thoughts roaming their minds all hours of the night. They were constantly kept awake thinking about: if and when they would get a lead on the location of the next horcrux, how their family was doing at home without them there, what scheme Voldemort was trying to come up with to thwart the possibility of the side of the light winning, (let alone, scheming ways to take down Harry, and put an end to his life), and many other haunting thoughts and images. The Golden Trio was out, in the middle of nowhere, trying to save the wizarding world as we know it. Kept inside a warm tent (from heated charms) that was invisible to the naked eye (because of strong invisibility charms) Ron, Harry and Hermione were trying to get a peaceful night's sleep. But they knew that because of their "situation", (if you could call nothing short of trying to save the world, a situation) their night would resemble nothing of the word "peaceful".

...

It was Hermione's turn to be on watch for the night. She had already taken a small nap earlier in the evening while Ron and Harry attempted to search for food. She wasn't really fond of the night watch position, but was grateful not to have to be stuck in a tent between the loud snoring of her precious friends. She exited the tent after bidding the guys goodnight, and sat upon a stump that was still within their charmed parameter. After a few moments her mind started to drift off and think about their time in hiding.

Harry was like the brother she never had. He knew her so well; it almost appeared that he could read her mind. She couldn't imagine being stuck back in Hogwarts without him. She felt sorry for Ginny, remembering the look on her face when Harry told her she couldn't come: that it was too dangerous. Period. It was as if you could see her heart break through her eyes. But she told him she loved him, and would be waiting for his return. She made him promise that he would return. Twice.

Ron was also like the brother she never had. Although you could tell by his mannerism that he didn't always feel the same way for her. He sometimes would put his arms around her for a hug, but leave them lingering for an uncomfortable amount of time. When she didn't return the gesture, he would go into another fit, withdrawing himself just slightly (but enough that both Harry and Hermione noticed). Harry and Hermione liked to call it his "closet". So that's where Ron was that evening. He went to bed early, without giving Hermione a hug (Harry noticed) and went into his "closet".

She snapped back into reality and realized the fire was beginning to die down. It was really cold out there, so she enjoyed the small fire when she was on watch. Reaching for her wand from her jeans pocket to reignite the fire, she realized it wasn't on her. Where could it be? A nervous feeling rippled down her spine. Maybe the boys had seen it. It would be stupid for her to just leave it lying around for anyone to find.

"Harry, Ron! Have you seen my wand? I'm going to look for it out here, but will you see if I left it on my cot?"

"Sure, Mione." Ron called as he and Harry got up and started searching.

Outside, Hermione was looking around frantically on the ground. There was so much dirt and twigs out here; it would be hard to spot. Then she looked further and spotted something resembling a want just outside the charmed parameter. "That's odd, why would it be out there?" she thought to herself as she walked towards the object. She leaned down to grab it.

Inside the tent Harry was ruffling through her blankets, and felt a small thin object. He lifted the last cover to find Hermione's wand. Just as he was walking towards the entrance to bring it to Hermione, he heard her speak.

"I found it, guys! Thanks for looking!"

In a matter of milliseconds Harry looked down at the wand in his hand, then up to Ron's face that was still staring at Hermione's wand. His face snapped up to look into Harry's eyes as they both realized that THIS was Hermione's wand. Whatever was out there could be a trap. And their friend was about to fall for it.

They both turned and sprinted towards the entrance, throwing open the door flap just in time to see Hermione pick up something that looked strangely like her wand.

"NO!" They both screamed as Ron lunged towards her to knock it out of her hands. But he wasn't quick enough, as Hermione screamed and disappeared with a loud crack. Ron fell to the ground where she had just been standing not a second earlier. This was really bad.

...

With a loud thud Hermione fell to the ground, hitting her head upon what she imagined was a concrete floor. As she lat there unable to move, she was able to take in her surroundings. She was in a dark, musty room that was lit by only two small torches. One wall was completely made of bars. It, to her dismay, strongly resembled a jail cell. However the next thing she saw made her wish it really was a jail cell she was in. Staring down at her was a very excited Lucius Malfoy, stamping his cane near her head.

"What a surprise do we have here?" Lucius chuckled. "It looks like a filthy little mudblood. Well little mudblood, your blood is about to get a lot dirtier."

And with that, the heel of Lucius's cane sent Hermione spiraling into unconsciousness as it came down on her face.


	2. Cold, Unforgiving Concrete

**A/N: Oh my goodness! I didn't expect to get so many followers already! I am overwhelmed by this! I hope you all continue to stick with this story. I will tell you now; there will be some dark parts. But there will also be some fluff. (Considering I am a hopeless romantic, you will be seeing fluff.) Also, I totally forgot my disclaimer!**

_I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THIS!_ Except for the plot It is all thanks to the wonderful JKR!

And a shout out to my lovely reviewers!

DragonSnap17: Thank you for your support! You bet I will carry on  
>Dgirlm: I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far! I will try to keep making all my readers smile!<br>And lastly, to my new Beta: A Rogue Without Her Remy: You are wonderful! I would be so grammatically lost without your guidance! And I am so glad to have your assistance with my story. I look forward to your input Oh, and it was this lovely gal who (unknowingly) gave me the idea for this chapter title.

Also, no Draco in this chapter yet. But he will be in the next one!

So without further ado, here is chapter 2!

* * *

><p><strong>Cold, Unforgiving Concrete<strong>

Back at the campsite, Harry and Ron were trembling with fear for what had just happened to their dear friend. They couldn't believe what they'd just witnessed. One second she was just laughing with them and tucking them into bed, and the next, she disappears into thin air. Ron felt especially terrible.

"I didn't even hug her goodnight. What if it's the last-"

Harry cut him short, "Shut UP Ron! We have to find her. We can't just sit on our arses and mope about what we should have done. What would Mione do?"

Ron hung his head. "Sorry Harry. You're right. This is all just so wrong."

Both boys sat in deep thought until it hit them; Hermione would hit the books. So that's what they did. First though, Harry sent a Patronus to the Order. It had been stressed to them that it was only to be done if there was a life-or-death situation.

They hadn't needed to discuss it aloud. With Hermione Merlin knows where, this certainly was exactly that. It was definitely life or death.

Hermione awoke with a splitting headache. She knew instantly that she wasn't in the tent with the boys. The last thing she remembered made her roll over and vomit on the cold, unforgiving concrete. The image of Lucius looking at her _that_way would make anyone want to empty their stomach. In her mind, she could perfectly picture the look on his face: it was pure excitement, hate, and lust all bottled into one ugly and terrifying smirk. This was bad. Just about as bad as bad could possibly get.

She was yanked from her thoughts when she heard echoing footsteps. Every click of the, no doubt, well-made shoes made her shake with dread for she knew exactly who was approaching. Sure enough, her previous night's guest sauntered up to the bars of her cell.

"What's wrong little Mudblood? Feeling lost without the comfort of your two little boyfriends? My, my, you look like you want to hex me. Tut, tut. That wouldn't be a very nice thing to do to your new Master." He began to cackle after that. It resonated deeper when he saw her try to reach for her wand… That wasn't anywhere to be found.

Realizing she didn't have her wand, something dawned on her.

"That wasn't my wand in the forest, was it? It was a Portkey. You tricked me, you evil git!" She screamed the last sentence. Lucius' eyes narrowed.

"Open this door!" he ordered to a man Hermione didn't recognize. The eldest Malfoy strolled in, cane in hand, and leaned a little so he was looming menacingly over her just like the sick villain they both knew he was. His voice was sickeningly low.

"Listen here, my sweet. You will not call me such things while you are in MY home. I would be a bit nicer to me, if I were you. I am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant, you know. Since you're the brightest witch of your age, you should also understand what that means. No? Okay, I'll explain it to the little filth that you are. It means that if I want something, such as a piece of trash like you to be my servant, then I. Get. What. I. Want."

He enunciated the last five words with a stamp of his cane for each syllable on the concrete beside her.

Anger suddenly filled her and she did something that probably wasn't the greatest idea considering the position she was in. She cleared her throat and spat in his face and then proceeded to scream, "I will NEVER do your dirty work! Do you hear me, you piece of scum?"

Lucius straightened up and took out his wand to clean the spit off of his face. Then he turned to her and did something rather unexpected; instead of hexing her or hitting her, he gingerly lifted the end of his cane so that it was under her chin, and gently raised her face so that she was looking him dead in the eye. And then very slowly, he spoke as if talking to a lover, "Forget the servant part. I have better things planned for you. I never wanted your filthy hands cleaning my Manor anyway. There is only one thing a little bitch like you could ever be good for. And you _are _going to get what is coming to you. Good, long and hard."

He chuckled lowly at the double meaning of his words. With that, he walked out the doorway of her cell and had the man standing nearby lock it with a wordless spell. He was almost out of view as he walked towards the only staircase that lead up and out before turning around and giving her one last look.

"Oh, and my sweet, someone will be coming by to dress you more suitably. You can't possibly show up to one of the Dark Lord's meetings in those rags. See you tonight. I hope you're excited, because I sure am."

She could still hear his menacing laugh even after the door to the cellar had slammed shut. At first she thought this was really bad. But it seemed as though her day wasn't going to get any better. She laid back down on the floor and cried for quite some time.

She didn't know how much time had passed before someone quietly glided up to her cell. It was a woman accompanied by two men, whom she presumed were her guards. The woman took one look at her and said, "No, dear me, that attire simply won't do. The Dark Lord will be expecting to see something much more elegant. Let's get you properly dressed. And don't even think about trying anything while I'm here. I won't hurt you, but these men will. And they won't hesitate if they see any funny business. So let's just get you dressed for the big event. When I heard they had a special guest, I thought it'd be another Death Eater. But my, oh my, am I surprised to see such an innocent looking young lady."

Hermione was shocked by the older woman standing before her. She looked to be about fifty, had white hair and very familiar sparkling grey eyes. She had a kind air about her, and Hermione began to wonder what this woman was doing mixed up with all of these horribly evil people. All she could do was stare at the woman who began mumbling to herself about dress sizes and colors. When Hermione finally found her voice, she spoke directly to the woman, "Excuse me, but who are you? Why are you being so kind to me?"

The woman stopped talking to herself and looked at Hermione curiously.

"My name is Annabelle. I am Lucius' aunt. I don't like to discuss why he does the things he does - which works for him too, for he is so secretive - so I keep to myself mostly, unless someone needs fashion sense. Which is precisely the reason that I am standing here in front of you, my darling. And to answer your question as to why I am being so kind? You seem like a scared young lady. And for what reasons I'm not sure. You shouldn't be scared. Lucius tells me that these parties he hosts are positively exquisite and thoroughly enjoyable. I don't particularly care to be around most the family, so I've never actually been to one of these soirées. But you should be excited! Especially after you have seen this dress on you!" The woman's eyes twinkled as Hermione looked down.

Without even realizing it, the woman had wordless and wandlessly changed Hermione's clothes into a stunning and elegant deep red dress. It had a heart-shaped neckline and was strapless, including a deep plunge that enhanced her cleavage. It was fitted to her body all the way down to the knee where it flared out. She looked like a princess. But, realizing where she was, a horror-stricken look dawned upon her features.

Annabelle didn't seem to notice the look on her face however, as she began wandlessly primping Hermione's hair into a beautiful up-do that had a few ringlets falling down to frame her face. With a touch of make-up, Annabelle had finished her masterpiece.

"You look exquisite! No man is going to be able to keep his hands off of you tonight!"

As the woman left the room smiling to herself, impressed with her accomplishments, Hermione then remembered what Lucius had said earlier. The words floated through her mind and)\ she was terrified once again.

_"There is only one thing a little bitch like you would be good for. And you _are _going to get what is coming to you. Good, long and hard."_

For the second time that day she leaned over and emptied her previously emptied stomach. _This_ was as bad as bad could possibly get, she was convinced of it.


	3. Deflowering

**Author's Note:** Oh man, I am excited to post this chapter. But not quite as excited as I am to post the next chapter! (Which I wrote last night as well) :) Disclaimer: I am not JKR, nor do I get anything monetary in creating this story.

I have received some awesome reviews (**Bstephens2693, Rommy, DragonSnap17**), but I want to say something: I love this story and where it's going. Those few reviewers love the story so far, and I love that. But otherwise, if you don't let me know what you like, don't like, guesses, etc. Then I just assume it's just myself and a few people who like my story. Which makes me sad :(

So if you are thinking anything while you read this, LET me know! It would make me really happy!

Also, a HUGE thanks to my fantastic beta, **_A Rogue without her Remy_**… You are amazing! This story wouldn't sound even half as good without you! I greatly appreciate all that you do :)

**Happy reading, Loves!**

* * *

><p><strong>Deflowering<strong>

Harry and Ron received word back from Lupin, now one of the Order's highest-ranking leaders, that meetings were going to be held everyday in an effort to come up with a way to find Hermione. It was in the form of Remus' Patronus that they'd heard back, as this was the safest way to communicate. The last part of the message told them explicitly)that they were not, under any circumstances, to blame themselves. It could have been any one of them that this happened to and Hermione was a smart girl. She would not give up and neither should they.

Harry was currently researching a few of the books Hermione had insisted on bringing with them. The first of these was a book on advanced spells. This had intrigued Harry, who immediately picked up the book and was sifting through all the different tracking spells. Most of the charms needed previous involvement with the person whom they were attempting to track. Harry was particularly puzzled by this, because he imagined that you wouldn't be able to get someone's previous consent if you didn't know where they were. That was the point of locating someone, wasn't it? And all the other spells were about tracking someone's wand. Which, seeing as he was holding Hermione's wand when she'd disappeared, those spells would not be an option. So he sadly continued on to the next book.

Ron had been mentally berating himself repeatedly, not bothering to listen to Remus' words in the slightest. He moped around the tent for the first few hours that she'd been gone. Then he felt even guiltier as he watched Harry nearly fall asleep on the book he was frantically searching. They hadn't slept that previous night for fear that the more time progressed since she disappeared, the slimmer their chances were of finding her in a decent state.

Their appearance would have made anyone laugh at them, if they weren't in such a grave situation. Ron's hair looked greasier than ever, sticking out for it was over-grown at the nape of his neck. His face was dirty, with tear streaks under his sunken eyes from the previous night's event. His clothes were shabbier than normal, even for a Weasley.

Harry's hair was sticking straight up due to all the dried sweat and dirt. His face, too, was dirty, accompanied by the similar sunken eyes. But his face showed no tears, for he was too grief-stricken to show more emotion than he already had. His clothes were torn after he ripped his shirt in anger at what had occurred. In his over-worked mind, he had gone over and over about all the things that could have gone differently. But no matter what, it had happened. And the only thing he could do about it now was to try his hardest for Hermione's sake. They would find her, of that he was certain. How long it could possibly take? That was something of which Harry couldn't be sure. He just hoped that his time wouldn't run out.

Hermione sat on the ground of her cell, contemplating the many methods of escape. Every idea she came up with was immediately shot down with the realization that the cell, hell, probably the whole Manor she was enclosed in was probably as magically protected with Dark Magic as the Order's safe house, Number12, Grimmauld Place, was with Light Magic. She didn't care that she was wrinkling the dress that she was (so) elegantly draped in. Her image was her least important concern at this point in time. Thoughts consumed her as she became more and more concerned for Harry and Ron. She was furious with herself for falling for the enemy's cruel trick. They were probably worried sick about her. And, as much danger as they were already in, her situation was bound to get them into more.

Her thoughts then inexplicably drifted to the image of Annabelle. That poor woman really thought her nephew was a good person. How could she not see through their façade? These cruel, sick villains that were her kin, and yet she still believed the best in them. She felt a small pang of sympathy towards this woman. One day she would realize the type of company she kept, and it would probably break her poor soul.

Her thoughts were so very rudely interrupted by the not-so-subtle cough of one of the guards. He eyed her with undisguised lust as he spoke, "Now, now little miss, you shouldn't be sitting on the floor in a gown that expensive. You'll ruffle yourself all up. But I guess you probably aren't used to wearing anything that costs more than a Galleon. Well get used to it. Even dirty Mudblood slaves like yourself will never be given anything less than extravagant to wear in the home of Lucius Malfoy. Wait until his son sees you. He might even want to fight his father for a chance at destroying your chastity belt."

The guard chuckled as he saw surprise dawn on Hermione's features. Of course the younger Malfoy would be present. He was, of course, his father's son. With a growing, sickening dread, she couldn't even bring herself to respond to the disgusting guard as she thought about being humiliated, not only in front of a group of Death Eaters, but in front of her number one rival all throughout their schooling. Seeing as she ,regretfully, had nothing left in her stomach to decorate the floor with, she just sat there on the cold ground, hugging her knees and staring at the wall.

Cold terror went through her body as she heard a voice from upstairs yell to the guard, "Rufus, would you please bring our honorary guest up? Almost everyone is gathered in the library for our event. And we want to make sure she has the grandest of entrances for our Master."

She didn't recognize the voice of the speaker, but that didn't change the terrible feeling that pooled in her gut.

Draco Malfoy was in his room adjusting the tie around his neck. He didn't care much for these meetings that the Dark Lord hosted. The Mark on his arm had slowly begun to make him want to vomit over the last few months until he now despised it fully. He never wished to have a life filled with the killings of so many innocent people. Don't misunderstand, He hated Potter with all his being, but he still would never wish to bring death upon the other wizard. But to keep his father happy, _and spare all his family's lives, _he had to play the role of the ever-supportive heir. It was a good thing his aunt Bellatrix had taught him Occlumency and Legilimency. He had been able to hide his betraying thoughts when in audience of the Dark Lord for some years now.

Finally settling on the tightness of his tie, he looked himself over in the mirror. He was handsome; there was no doubt about that. No witch had ever been able to deny him. His aristocratic facial features made him look more mature than his age. He'd had a slight peach fuzz going that morning before he used his wand to shave. The Dark Lord never allowed his followers to look anything less than sharp. His eyes were still a sparkling light grey, but he knew they also would turn darker when his emotions ran high. But although his eyes shown a difference when he was emotional, you would never be able to tell by any other feature on him. He was always calm and collected. That was what it meant to be a Malfoy.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he sighed. _I really don't want to be here tonight. But Father promises that there will be a special surprise. Probably another Mudblood to be killed. It really sickens me how these men get off on the sight of that._

He was pulled from his thoughts as one of the lesser Death Eaters knocked on his door. His father was never the one to come fetch him for parties, or anything, for that matter. So it didn't surprise him in the least to see a man, whose name he had never cared to learn, standing outside his door, telling him it was time to come downstairs.

With one last look at himself in the mirror, feeling disgusted with himself for what he was probably about to witness, he made his way through the doorway and down the steps to the library. This is where he then stood, among all the other Death Eaters and waited for the "special guest" to arrive.

The guard roughly grabbed Hermione's upper arm and yanked her down the dimly lit hallway. Somewhere along the way she lost her footing, but the guard didn't even stop to allow her to stand back up. He, instead, grabbed her by the hair and pulled harder. They made their way down some hallways and stood in front of a set of elegant double doors.

"We will wait until they announce you, Mudblood. Then you shall meet the guests who have come. In your honor."

Suddenly, she heard the snake-like hiss of Voldemort himself calling her name, "I'm sssssure you all are wondering who our guesssst tonight shall be. Well, you are all in for a delicious and dirty treat. Without further ado, I welcome our very own Potter's Mudblood: Hermione Granger."

The guard yanked the double doors open and dragged her into the room. He threw her on the ground in the middle of the assembled group. Nearly all in attendance shrieked with joy. She looked around at all of them, who seemed to wear similar facial expressions of a nauseating combination of excitement and lust. All, that was, except for one Draco Malfoy. When her eyes rested upon him, he was looking at the plush, intricately woven Oriental rug. Suddenly his eyes snapped up to meet hers and their eyes locked. She couldn't decipher the emotions playing across his face. But she could certainly tell that it didn't match the room full of his fellow Death Eaters.

Lucius' voice rang through the room as he quieted down the howling men. "My dear Lord, I present to you this filthy witch. But before I hand her over to you, I ask one simple request. My request, if you so wish to grant me this one dream of mine is,"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she thought about the words coming out of Lucius' mouth.

"Is to _deflower_ this dirty little Mudblood. I have seen her try to out-do my son during their time at Hogwarts, year after year. And after seeing all that she went through to make sure my son wasn't the top of their class, I want to beat _her_at something. I want to be the one to take her precious little muddy virginity."

As the words flowed past his tongue, Hermione grew more and more terrified. By the end of his speech, she had zoned out all of the despicable things spewing from his vile lips and had begun praying to any and every deity she could think of that Harry and Ron would come bursting through the doors to save her. But she knew this wasn't even a possibility. They couldn't possibly know where she was. She would just have to block it all out and take whatever these monsters had in store for her.

The men were all shouting out how they should deserve the honors of deflowering, as Lucius so eloquently put it, the "Mudblood" and Hermione was doing her best to keep them tuned out.

But a single voice cut through all the shouting as the one and only Draco Malfoy spoke up. At his words she looked up and utter terror crossed her face as he drawled out his statement.

"I want the filthy Mudblood. It was me who she tried to best. Now let me have her for my revenge. It's _only sweeter_ coming from the one she hates most."


	4. Something Shiny And Pure

**A/N:** I really want to just get this right out there, so I'll be quick with my note!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything about this story, except this plot… and Annabelle.

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU all for such wonderful reviews! If I were to respond to all the reviews on here I would take up half the page, so instead I'll list the names, (**DragonSnap17 – **_you are soooo wonderful with your reviews!, _**Bushyhaired-american-nerd, dgirlm – **_Thank you for reviewing again as well!_**, WillaEnders, bstephens2693 – **_Again, thanks for reviewing again!_**, AccioBeer – **_LOVE the screen name, lol_**, MicekMucek – **_Thank you so much for your comments! I appreciate your enjoyment in this story_**, Rommy**)

And a special thanks to my amazinggg beta: A Rogue without her Remy. Thank you so much for helping me to clarify a LOT in this chapter. And you are the ever-wonderful grammar queen. Thank you!

Oh and I pre-apologize if there is any mistakes. My wonderful Beta did correct this chapter, but she reminded me of some things that needed clarification, so I changed some things and decided to post it without sending it back to her first because I was SO excited to get this out there. Hope you all don't hold it against me :)

**Happy Reading, Loves!**

* * *

><p><strong>Something shiny… And pure<strong>

Hermione locked eyes with him just long enough to see the glimmer of guilt as he stared at her before looking up to the Dark Lord to receive the answer to his request. This confused her. His words were dripping with malice, while his eyes betrayed his words.

The Dark Lord contemplated his request for nearly five excruciatingly long minutes before he spoke. But in those moments, no one dared try to reason with the Dark Lord. He had made his decision. Looking at Draco with a sickly grin, he answered.

"Very well, Draco. It seems as though you have the most just reason for revenge. Allow me to dress her into something more appropriate to your tasssste."

As the last word slithered off his tongue, he pointed his wand at Hermione. Her dress disappeared and all that was left on was a very skimpy white lace bra and matching knickers. She recoiled while covering her body with her hands in an effort to hide all the bare skin.

Voldemort then clapped his hands and gestured for the group to sit in the chairs that were lined against the far wall to watch the impending display in front of them, leaving only Draco and Hermione in the center of the room.

With a flick of his wand, Voldemort conjured a table under Hermione, with her arms chained at the elbows to keep her down, with her behind resting against the end of the table closest to Draco, with her legs dangling towards the floor. She instantly clasped her hands over her stomach in a futile attempt at modesty.

She had a million thoughts running through her head. _Is this really happening? Is Malfoy really about to r-rape me?_

She looked up at Draco as he walked up to her, stopping between her legs. She saw him look back at the Dark Lord sitting across the room behind them and knew he must have nodded for Draco to continue. There was a quiet hush of whispering from the group, as they all were excited to witness the youngest Malfoy finally exact his revenge. Little did they know, revenge was the furthest thing from his mind.

The Dark Lord flicked his wand once again, and her bra and knickers disappeared. She gasped, trying to cover herself from all the hungry looks she was earning from the Death Eaters, but she couldn't even reach far enough to cover her breasts. She clamped her eyes shut, trying to pretend she was anywhere but here. She failed to notice that Draco's eyes didn't roam over her body once. Instead they stayed level with her face. Her eyes shot open as two hands roughly grabbed her breasts. She looked up into his eyes, pleading that he not hurt her. She still couldn't tell what was going through his mind, and it made her all the more nervous.

Suddenly, his hands relaxed until they were merely gently cupping her breasts. She looked up to him in confusion until it dawned on her. The look in his eyes wasn't disgust. It was guilt. And she had the odd thought that he was only trying to cover her up so the other men wouldn't see.

Draco Malfoy, son of the slimy second hand to the Dark Lord, was trying to spare _her_some small amount of dignity, while still trying to keep up the revengeful façade. She immediately started to doubt the thought that crossed her mind as she saw him look away from her and the revengeful smirk replaced his guilty face.

"Come on Draco, give ussss some more entertainment." The Dark Lord spoke directly to him.

Although she knew where this was supposed to lead, she kept silently praying that he'd have mercy on her. As sudden as her eyes snapped up, his lips crashed into hers. Although from the Death Eater's standpoint, it looked rough and greedy, he was ,in all actuality, being very gentle. He didn't try to shove his tongue down her throat, _as it would appear to any and all viewers,_but instead he just grazed his tongue along her bottom lip. He deepened the kiss as if he was trying to convey something to her, but she couldn't understand what exactly that something was. Then she thought she was going crazy. She knew he would take her virginity next, so she couldn't actually bring herself to believe that he was trying to spare her any embarrassments.

He broke away to unbuckle and unzip his trousers. He pulled himself out and moved closer to her. She could feel his manhood between her thighs. But she couldn't bring herself to look away from his eyes. Those haunting, grey eyes. Those eyes that were filled with so much emotion. So much emotion, and yet she couldn't read anything that was flickering across his face.

He looked down on her and grabbed her chest once again. He leaned forward until their noses were touching and he whispered something. She probably wouldn't have been able to hear it if it weren't for his proximity.

"I'm so sorry."

She didn't want to believe the words that just came out of his mouth. _Did he really just apologize? What is going on here? He had finally got the upper hand, and then he goes and apologizes as he's about to do something horrific to her?_

It was then that his lips grazed hers again, ever so gently. More thoughts consumed her. _Why was he doing this? Why was he being so gentle when he was supposed to be t-taking her innocence? _This was not the Draco she knew. He was anything but gentle. But before she could think anything else, he reached up to her hands that were between their warm bodies and placed something shiny on her finger. She was confused at first, before an instant hum went through her body, starting at the ring and moving outward from her finger. She glanced down after he broke the kiss and looked at the ring that no one else had seemed to notice. It was a thin band that sparkled at her for a second before disappearing. Draco leaned over and whispered in her ear very quietly, "It's a purity ring."

Instantly she recognized the name of this specific ring. She had read some information about it in several books, but she could hardly believe that this was really it. This ring was supposed to protect and preserve the wearer's innocence until either a marriage band from a wizard replaced it, or until the wearer chose to take it off. It would also protect the wearer from several different dangers, though all of the meanings hadn't been discovered yet.

This mystical piece of jewelry wasn't seen often. She knew it was very rare, in fact. The ring was enchanted to disappear seconds after adorning the witch's hand, so no others would know it was there, except for the witch and wizard involved. It could only be seen by outside viewers if the wearer deeply wanted them to see it. Possibly one of the most extraordinary magical properties of the ring was how it's magic would cause the female parts to heal up after intercourse as if nothing ever came in contact, leaving the wearer of the ring still technically a virgin. But once given to the witch of choice, the wizard could never present it to anyone else. And the witch who wore that ring would always have a magical link to the wizard who presented it to her until she chose to take it off, (although most witches decided not to, instead a wedding band replaced it later on).

What they both didn't know about this ring, was that it was only meant to be given to a wizard's one true soul mate. And it wouldn't work, unless the witch receiving it was truly the giver's soul mate. Annabelle didn't feel it was right to tell Draco this bit of information when she'd given it to him before their event, along with a cryptic message as to what he'd need it for, for fear he would mess everything up.

After placing the ring on her finger, he was lost in the recollection of just an hour ago,

_He was walking down the hallway, with the death eater who came to fetch him way ahead, when someone grabbed his arm and yanked him into a room. He raised his wand, ready to fire a quick hex when he saw familiar sparkling grey eyes staring back. His Great Aunt Annabelle had her finger over her mouth to signal him to be quiet. He was confused, none the less. But he was even more confused when she thrust something small into his hand. She gave him the ring, with a few short sentences about it having "protective properties" and "mystical charms" and then told him that if he felt the need to protect someone tonight, then he should use it. And that he may not understand right now, but that it would preserve someone's virginity even after intercourse._

_Draco was quite puzzled at why she had given him this ring, and why now of all times, but he took the ring none the less and pocketed it before leaving swiftly to the library. He knew enough about this ring to realize it was very rare. And also that it wasn't supposed to be given to just anybody. Only presented to someone that meant something special to the giver, (not realizing that it was only for soul mates). He started thinking about the million questions he wanted to ask his great aunt later, when he could visit her with no one around, when his thoughts were interrupted by the beginning of the meeting…"_

Hermione heard the crowd begin to cheer as she came out of her recollection of the ring's powers. They were clearly enjoying the show before them. But she couldn't focus on the crown, but instead was thinking about the man above her. He was protecting her innocence. And she didn't have a single clue as to why.

He perched himself between her legs and leaned down to kiss her again. His lips were incredibly soft and he gently moved them over hers. She felt so drawn to him through this kiss, and it scared her. Unknowingly she started to move her lips in sync with his. But too soon he broke the kiss for a brief second to speak the last words she'd heard him utter before he entered her,

"I'm so, so sorry."


	5. I'm So So Sorry

**A/N:** You all are so fantastically amazingly wonderful :) I really love how many people are enjoying this. It makes me smile soooo much. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

My lovely reviewers, **(Arabellagrace, DragonSnap17** – _thank you sooo much for your review again! You are so dedicated! I will take your advice on not updating so ASAP so that I don't just post meaningless jumble. Lol I know how annoying that is when you read a new chapter and nothing happens. So thank you!, _**daisyatdusk, rommy – **_I wish I could write back to your reviews! I love reading what you say, and yes, I did update the next day just for you! I will try my best to keep updating frequently (but not too frequently as I wrote back to dragonstap17, because I don't wanna give you guys some bs chapter :) and Yes, my beta is WONDERFUL! I am very grateful that she responds so quickly, _**MicekMucek – **_I really like Annabelle too! You will see what she has to offer as the story continues :), _**Addictedtobooks, WillaEnders, bushyhaired-american-nerd, kosh2260, **and **Lingo10)**

**And of course my wonderful amazingly, amazing beta, A Rogue without her Remy: You continue to make me smile with how awesome you are! Thank you soooo much! **

_Oh, and as a side note. I really don't care for a review if you're just going to talk bad about my story. So to the reviewer, **Qiana**, who felt the need to leave me a nasty review: Sorry that you don't like my plot. But that's the great part about it being MY story. I don't have to care if you like it or not. The people I write this for are myself, and the readers that enjoy it. So don't like? Don't read. But I am quite sure you'll be around to write me another stupidly-put review on a later chapter. Because in my opinion, the ones that claim to truly hate a story, end up sticking around in pure curiosity to see how the plot progresses._  
><em>But honestly? Don't bother. I would hate for you to waste your precious little time to say meaningless things about my story, when you could obviously devote your time to shit-talking other fanfics.<em>  
><em>So thanks for the attention, but I really don't write this story to please you. C'mon, <span>be real<span> :)_

_Happy Reading, Loves!_

* * *

><p><strong>I'm So So Sorry<strong>

The boys received word that, as of right now, no progress had been made pertaining to finding Hermione, but the Order would keep trying, even forgoing sleep, to figure it all out.

Harry had fallen asleep with his nose in the current book he was researching and was awoken by the sound of Ron quietly chuckling at the sight of him.

"Blimey mate. I know laughing is the last thing I should be doing, but you look so much like Mione when you do that."

Harry's face fell at the sound of Ron using Hermione's name. He looked at his friend and tried to give him a lop-sided smile before speaking.

"Yeah, well, I was on to something before I nodded off. How long did I sleep?"

Ron looked at his friend and smiled sadly before replying, "Only a few hours. You looked so exhausted that I didn't have the heart to wake you. But what did you say about getting somewhere before you fell asleep?"

Harry's eyes lit up at the reminder. He looked down at the book under his nose and started quickly turning pages.

"Here! It says that you can track anyone with this complicated spell if you point your wand at something that contains their DNA and say the incantation."

He looked up and gave Ron the first real smile in the two days since Hermione's untimely disappearance.

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's go search her cot. There's bound to be a stray hair somewhere in the blankets!"

Before Ron had even finished his sentence, Harry bolted up and over to Hermione's cot and began carefully inspecting her pillow.

Watching his friend look at blankets as though his life depended on it suddenly reminded him that someone's life _did _depend on it. They were finally getting somewhere, and maybe this new lead could actually take them to their unforgotten friend.

It was the first time in those two days that both men felt something that didn't weigh heavily on their hearts: a glimmer of hope.

Annabelle was reading quietly in the nook of her room, under the window, when she heard the noise of the crowd below. She had ideas about what was going to take place in the library, but the sounds only confirmed her suspicions. She was right to assume that the situation regarding the poor girl in the cellar was one that was not likely to end in her favor. Every time she was asked to dress a certain "guest," it was usually an indication that something dreadful was going to happen to them. Lucius had a sick way of making a gal look her best before utterly destroying her life. But she didn't ask questions, because she trusted her family, her nephew, when he said it didn't concern her.

But when she had met the poor soul with the beautiful big brown eyes, all that changed. She couldn't bear to see this poor girl lose her will to live because of her wicked nephew and his antics. She had kept the purity ring, which had been quietly handed down through the family, until she met a certain person that she would deem worthy of such protection. She decided to give the ring to Draco after meeting the girl, knowing that he wouldn't use it unless he felt something for her. And she didn't know for sure, but she had an inkling that this girl _would_mean something to Draco. She could feel it. And her feelings were rarely wrong.

Before she could brace herself, the Death Eaters erupted in loud cheers as Hermione's screams echoed throughout the room. Draco looked down at her with a pained face, and mouthed those words she'd heard twice from him now.

_I'm so, so sorry._

Her lower region was throbbing with pain at his first thrust. He had broken through her sacred barrier, and the thoughts poured into her head once again. _Oh Merlin. I'm not a virgin anymore. This was supposed to be a special occasion, not to be handed over to just anyone. I can't believe this is happening. _All her daydreams of how this was supposed to happen flew out the window after that first, life-altering thrust. Draco Malfoy was the one who'd taken something from her that was supposed to be saved for someone special. She used to picture herself being situated on a lace-draped bed, with floating candles all around the room and rose petals lining the floor in a romantic haze. Or a sweet rendezvous in a hot steamy shower with bodies sliding against each other that just couldn't get enough contact. But this was anything but romantic, steamy, or sweet. This was utter torture. She was so far beyond humiliated. And as soon as she had begun dismissing the scenarios that would never be, he quickly thrust again.

She was ripped back to the present from the loud cheering that was echoing off the walls behind them. She could see Voldemort with a deadly quirk of the lips, clearly intoxicated with the sight being presented to him. Next to him, Lucius was seated with a look upon his face of utmost pride in the person that was doing this despicable thing to her. Many of the other Death Eaters had expressions gracing their faces in a mixture of pure, unadulterated pleasure and sick, twisted excitement.

She looked up at Draco, finally finding her voice to plead with him.

"Malfoy, _please_ don't do this. _Please! _I'm so sorry for everything you've ever had toendure from us, or your family, or _him," _she gestured to the Dark Lord desperately. "But torture me any other way. I beg you. Hermione Granger, filthy Mudblood, stupid little know-it-all, is here and now, begging you to stop this. _PLEASE!" _

By the end of her rant, she was sobbing. Uncontrollable tears streamed down her face. She couldn't bring herself to even look at him.

He noticed this, while still sliding in and out of her, and lifted her chin so she was looking directly at him, though she refused to look him in the eye, and instead settled on a point on the ceiling just past his left ear. He spoke gently, out of fear that the crowd would overhear, "I'm so sorry, Granger."

Finally looking him in the eye again, she was filled with rage. She mustered up the courage and screamed, "WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING THAT? WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING YOU'RE SO-"

Before she could finish her sentence he had grabbed her hair very roughly in a fistful, and brought her face forward so their noses were touching. The crowd of Death Eaters shouted louder, clearly excited by this turn of events. He gave her an apologetic look and leant down to her ear.

"I'm sorry I have to do this. But I _have_to. If I stop now, it will be both of our lives on the line. And I could live with them killing me, but I couldn't bear it if they did anything to you. So you have to just go with me on this. Hit me, slap me, try to push me away. Play your part, while I play mine. I'm sorry if this is all so confusing to you. But right now, our only hope to stay alive is to just go through with this."

With the last word he whispered, he threw her head back down. But instead of hating him for the harshness of his actions, she was overwhelmed with an unfamiliar feeling towards Draco. He really was trying to salvage her innocence. Her embarrassment. Her life. And as she looked up at him, for the first time, she felt a small amount of respect for him.

Wanting to know so much more as to why he was treating her this way, she knew she had to play the part if she wanted a chance to ask him about it later.

Draco leant up and looked at the crowd that was at the edge of their seats and practically drooling with envy. He addressed the room at large, looking particularly smug as he spoke.

"Who knew revenge would feel this… _good_." He then gave his trademark smirk as the men chuckled at his pun. He continued, "Father, you were right. This Mudblood really is good for one thing." He winked at the eldest Malfoy and his father clapped his hands in pride.

Turning back to her, he had to quicken his pace so he could finally finish this deed. He originally imagined it would have been hard to keep himself aroused enough to do this job in front of all these gawking idiots. But he was relieved at how easy it was to keep himself going after he finally allowed himself to look over the body that was laid out provocatively in front of him.

She had reckless curls streaming everywhere. He noticed her hair was not the bushy bird's nest it previously was, back when they'd been in school. He knew Potter, Weasel, and Granger had been on the run for an unknown cause for some time now, so he briefly wondered how she managed to keep her hair looking so beautiful.

Lowering his line of sight, he stopped at her golden brown eyes. They were looking up at him with a strange emotion playing across them. He thought he'd seen a brief flash of gratitude cross her face, but couldn't be too sure for the moment passed far too quickly. He then focused on her soft lips. They were slightly plump, probably from her repeated biting of them out of nervousness. But they looked so bloody decadent. Kissing those lips was the easiest part of this task, and it didn't take even an ounce of acting to pretend that he enjoyed every second of it.

He gazed lower at her feminine mounds. She had the most beautiful chest he'd ever seen. They certainly weren't the biggest he'd ever encountered, but something about them just made him feel as though they were perfect.

He didn't want to, nor did he have time to, look any lower than that, because he could feel himself getting close. He closed his eyes and tried to picture her wanting this. In his mind, he had a willing and caring Granger looking up at him. She was caressing his face and chest and moaning at the thought of him inside her. He pretended that her screams were from pleasure instead of pain. This fantasy was what got him through to the final ending.

He looked into her eyes the second he reached his peak, and didn't look away as he rocked gently, finishing the deed.

She looked up at him without a single hint of anger for the first time. He never wanted to do this to her. It was forced upon someone, and he wanted to be the one to do it. He wanted to be the one to spare her the horrific punishment this crowd forced upon her. And for that she couldn't be angry with him. The pain and guilt were written all over his face. And she couldn't help but stare back into his dark, glittering, grey eyes, and pretend for a second that she wanted this. Of course no one would ever wish to be in a situation like this. But to pretend that this was something other than rape would help her get through this embarrassment.

She tried to regain his gaze once again but he wouldn't and couldn't allow himself to look at her. To look at the poor, innocent woman that he'd just stolen something precious from.

He just hoped she would realize that by giving her that ring, he was trying to spare some of the pain of what just happened. And he severely hoped that one day she could forgive him for what a horrible thing he had done to save her.

She knew this was where the heartbreak was supposed to set in. That just because he gave her this ring that would allow her to keep her _technical_ innocence, didn't mean that she hadn't lost something from this horrible encounter. It was a terrifying thing, rape. But in some odd way she didn't think this was nearly as horrid as it probably had been on many other muggle-born "mudbloods". She didn't have the feeling of loss and depression at what had just happened to her. She'd seen people die right in front of her in battles more times than she could count. Hell, she's even killed several evil wizards before. But instead of Draco fully taking something from her in this moment, he allowed her to keep a small piece of herself. He salvaged the one small, meaningless, but very important to Hermione, piece of this equation that allowed her a small piece of mind.

Yes, to anyone else it would seem like a stupid thing to go through a situation and still call herself a virgin. But because of this ring, she could one day actually give herself to someone for the _real_ first time.

And little did he know, that as she lay on that table, covered in sweat and bruises from trying to push him away, still trying to get him to look at her, and laying naked for all eyes in the room to see… That she had, in her heart, already forgiven him.

**Quick 2nd A/N:** It may be a few days before the next chapter is posted. I try to write them while my toddler is taking his naps, and then if i can get more than one to send to my beta, i stock up (so-to-speak) so i can give myself to get other stuff done. But it might be a few days because i have some stuff to get done as well, during his naps. So please don't hate me!

But if you are enjoying my story, feel free to review. I love reading them all :) :) :)


	6. Broken Soul

**A/N:** Firstly…. I'm SO SO sorry! I can't believe I let this much time pass before updating! I will try not to do this ever again :( I received so many reviews! I am almost to 50! I can't believe this, I'm so so so SO excited! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story. I hope to keep it worth your while…

As I said, I received so many reviews, so I can't list them all this chapter without making half the chapter just names! So thank you SO much to all who reviewed. I feel truly special and I just am so overwhelmed with how much you guys like this story.

And a special thanks to my beta, **_A Rogue without her Remy_**. Without her this story would surely be shambles. I am so grateful to have her help!

So I won't keep you all any longer from the story!

(Oh, I don't own any of the characters, except the lovely old woman.)  
>And in the future, I think I'll start my Author's note at the end, so you guys can get right to reading the chapter!<p>

Happy Reading, Loves!

* * *

><p><strong>Broken Soul<strong>

Draco didn't look at her once after finishing the "deed". Instead he stepped back, adjusted himself back into his clothes, and fastened his belt. He looked up at the Dark Lord and was not surprised to see the disgustingly smug grin on his face, _if that's what you could call a face, seeing as it's on the body of someone whose soul is nearly dead._

He then looked over to his father who was beaming with pride. Normally a son would be happy, or even ecstatic to be looked upon with pride from his father. But in this situation, all Draco could feel was self-disgust. And it didn't help his emotions that his father was _proud_of what he did that made him feel this way.

As soon as his train of thought ended, he saw the group of Death Eaters rise and begin to Apparate away. The meeting was over and the Dark Lord must have dismissed everyone while Draco was lost in thought. Once the majority of the group had left, only the Dark Lord, Lucius, Draco, and Hermione remained in the room. Draco still hadn't looked at her and he certainly didn't plan on doing so anytime in the near future. He was sure he would discover her heart broken if he looked into her eyes, and he knew that would be the breaking point for him. He didn't want this. Anyof this. At all. And he just had to keep up this little charade for a while longer and then he could escape. He knew that her side would never accept him once he left his own side, so he figured he would need to prepare for a life of running. But then one day Severus took him aside and asked him the strangest of questions. One he would never have expected from the closest follower of the Dark Lord.

_"Draco, how would you react if I told you that everything you've ever grown up with, everything that you were ever taught to believe was right in this world, was all terribly and utterly wrong?"_

Before Draco could re-live that life-changing conversation in his head, he was interrupted by his evil master,

"Draco. You mussst take this filth to the dungeounsss… You will bring her food and water. And make sure she eatssss… We will need her alive for our next meeting, where she will talk…"

Voldemort pointed his wand at Hermione, and with a flick, her arms and legs were released, but only for a half-second, for where her shackles had previously been, there was now a long chain wrapped around her neck. It grew longer in a matter of seconds and the end rested in the palm of Draco('s pale hand). He looked down at the chain that weighed heavily on his hand, **not to mention his heart**and felt instantly nauseated. First he had to rape her, and now he would have to lead her down to her cell by a chain as if she were a dog.

It took everything in him not to vomit and instead he replied to the Dark Lord with a low bow and fake air of confidence in his voice when he spoke.

"Of course, M'Lord. I live to serve you." _I live to see your downfall, _Draco thought.

Still without glancing in the direction of the poor girl who was left in his possession for the time being, it took every once of his strength to speak the next words.

"Follow me, _Mudblood_. If you fail to keep up, I will be forced to drag you all the way to your new home. And I _will_enjoy it."

And with his eyes resolutely forward, he led her out of the room and down some corridors, past many doors, and many more hallways, down two flights of stairs, and into the formal living room, where they stopped in front of a painting. It was of his Great Uncle, Aurolden. He had been married to Draco's favorite Great Aunt before his untimely death.

After Draco finished what he had to do, Hermione couldn't seem to catch his eye again. She didn't want to get him in trouble with Voldemort, and she was unsurprisingly accurate in her guess that no one knew how gently Draco had really been to her. So she couldn't call to him, and she certainly couldn't reach for him.

After he stepped away from her and fastened himself, he turned to Voldemort, waiting for his praise, she assumed. She slipped into her own thoughts and blocked out what was going on around her.

_I can't believe what just happened. What would Harry and Ron think? They would kill him. But I guess that's the plan in the end. Kill them all or put them in Azkaban. But I'm bloody positive that Harry will want to personally skin Malfoy alive after this. But not before I get answers! Damnit what was he playing at? Why was he being so gentle? He was supposed to rape me for Godric's sake. But instead he tried to make it as painless as possible. He saved me from all the other Death Eaters in the room. _She shuddered at the thought of any of the other men in that room getting their slimy hands on her. She may not even be alive right now if Draco hadn't stepped in. She didn't know when or why it was that she started calling him that in her head. But it just felt right. After everything that had just happened to her, and she wasn't sure if she should be angry with him or grateful, but either way she knew it wouldn't feel right to call him by his surname anymore.

Angry or grateful? Well to be honest, both emotions ran rampant. She shivered again at the thought of what could have happened to her had Draco not stepped in. She was very grateful for how he handled their… um, situation. But damnit, she was angry! She was livid with Voldemort, she was angry at Draco for doing what he did to her, but she was most of all angry with herself. How stupid could she have been to think her wand was outside the protective charm! She knew better than that, but in a half-second of thoughtlessness, she grasped that damn object that brought her here.

Looking up at Draco once more, she noticed that he held a chain. And upon following it to its destination, she found that it was connected to a shackle-choker wrapped around her neck. _This is bloody terrible_, she thought.

Then Draco began speaking to her, but he wouldn't look up to make eye contact. It seemed (as though) no one else noticed this, for most of the Death Eaters were gone. He told her to follow, so without hesitation, she stood up abruptly. It took her a second to get her balance, because she was incredibly sore all over. But once she regained her footing, she followed Draco from the room and down many hallways. She didn't bother to keep track of where they were heading, but eventually she stopped in front of a portrait of an old man. He seemed to be the only painting in the Manor that she'd seen since being held captive who actually smiled at her. It was strange. But she currently didn't have the emotional capacity to begin to ponder this.

She heard him mutter a password, however it sounded like another language and wasn't quite audible enough to hear the full pronunciation. The portrait swung open and a dimly lit stairwell was below them. They descended quickly; all the while Hermione's stomach became twisted with knots. She had looked around quickly for a sign of a window. She wanted to make sure the last thing she'd see before being locked away were the rays of the sweet golden sun. Once they had made it to the bottom of the stairs, Hermione looked around, confused. This was not the cell she had been in before, yet it looked very similar. The only difference was that this cell had a small window about the size of an average picture frame, and a small cot in the corner. The window, of course, had bars on it, but Hermione would have expected no less. The cell had three walls of solid stone, and then the fourth wall was half stone, and half bars, in the style of a Muggle jail cell once again.

Draco opened the door that was covered in bars after flicking his wand to unlock it. He pulled Hermione into the small room roughly. He started to leave, still without having glanced at her when she gathered up some Gryffindor courage and spoke to him. Her tone was not friendly, but nor was it stone cold.

"You're not even going to look at me? After what you just put me through? What? Are you too _ashamed_?" and when he didn't look at her still, she screamed, "You're a bloody COWARD!"

In a split second he was across the room and had grabbed her roughly by the upper arms, slamming her into the wall behind. His face was mere centimeters from hers and she could see the flicker of different emotions pass through his eyes. It started with anger, then fear. And then it looked to be sadness for only a second and then it was back to anger again. He stared into her eyes so deep that she felt like he was searching her soul. It was about a minute after he'd grabbed her when he finally spoke. They didn't break eye contact as he barely whispered angrily to her.

"You're right. You're such a bloody know-it-all, Granger. You are right, DAMNIT! I am a bloody coward. I was terrified in there. And not because of _him,_" he spat, "but because I was terrified of what they were going to do with you. You don't understand. You _couldn't_understand. All of the other women that have been brought to these meetings were all faceless to me. I didn't know them, so I didn't have to care. But once you showed up, once I saw your face everything changed. I couldn't get your bloody eyes out of my head!

"Here, I've always had to be the evil Death Eater's son. Draco, the boy who has to prove himself so he can one day have the _glorious_ Dark Mark _graced_upon his skin," he said this with a look on his face like he'd swallowed something rotten. His face quickly became emotionless again and he continued.

"But you, you're a sliver of the one hopeful part in my life. When I look at you, I feel at home, like I'm back at Hogwarts, the only place I've ever felt truly safe. You see Granger, here, I have to do terrible things. I have to act like a terrible person. But there, at Hogwarts, I just have to pretend to be a bully. I have to pretend to be mean. So that my father stays _proud_of me. So I don't have to answer to the Dark Lord.

"So until you showed up, it was easy for me to put on a mask of devotion in front of that _lunatic_ until I had the chance to escape. Until I could end it all and never see these despicable people again. But then you showed up and ruined it all! It destroyed me to have to do that to you! I've never felt so bloody disgusted with myself before _that,"_he spat. Now Draco's voice had risen, but he wasn't concerned that anyone would hear, for he had cast a spell to keep their conversation confidential. And now Draco was screaming.

"But every time I looked into your eyes back there, a piece of me _broke_! I'm not supposed to fucking feel this way, Granger! Do you understand what this does to me? It was so easy to hate you at school," his voice dropped so he was speaking with a normal tone now, gradually getting softer, "It was so easy to call you names and embarrass you. It was so _bloody_easy to want to completely destroy you…" the last few words were just a whisper.

It made Hermione shiver, and for some reason she was feeling something she'd never thought she'd feel towards Draco Malfoy. She felt sad for him. And then he continued,

"But then you had to show up here. In my home. In front of the Dark Lord. Where I would have had to watch you get destroyed." He gave a light laugh at this, as if he thought what he'd say next was a little funny, "You'd think I would have gotten some sick pleasure out of watching. You think I would have reveled in the fact that you, Mudblood _bitch_, were going to be destroyed and I would be allowed the pleasure of standing there and watching! But then you had to look at me with those pleading, pitiful eyes. One small glance from you and I broke. And then I had to do what I did to protect you from _them_.

"And when you looked at me after I'd finished that horrible task, do you know what that did to me?" He became quite for just a second, his eyes still glued to hers. She couldn't look away. She was terrified at the pace of his emotions. Despite this, she was intrigued to have a glimpse, however small it was, into the mind of Draco Malfoy. It was heart-wrenching to hear the story from his point of view. And then, as she looked into his eyes, something broke inside her with his next few words.

"When you looked up at me, the last piece of my soul was shattered. And with that one look… You destroyed me."

And all she could do was watch this boy in front of her, gripping her arms and pouring his heart out, as a single tear leaked from his eye and slid ever-so-gently down his face.


	7. Sight of a Siria

A/N: Just a quick one! You all are so amazing for following/favoriting/reviewing this story! It is you all who keep me going! And special thanks to my beta who is amaaaazing, A Rogue Without Her Remy

Happy Reading Loves!

Sight of a Seria:

Hermione could not believe what she was seeing. Draco Malfoy, her all-time arch nemesis was crying directly in front of her. And not only that, but he was crying for her. What the hell was happening? She had spent so much time with Ron, whom she assumed loved her, and yet in just the few moments of hearing Draco pour his heart out, he had shown more emotion than Ron ever had in the entire time they spent together. Here he was, supposed to be torturing her and felt bad for him.

Draco was staring into her eyes, all the way though to her soul. She had let him in and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. All she could do was stare back as he stood before her, his heart breaking. What did he mean when he said he didn't want any of this? Does that mean that he's not the evil prat we all thought he was? Could we have been so utterly wrong about him?

It was almost as if Draco was frozen in place, silent tears streaming down his face. He gazed at her intensely, waiting, hoping, that she'd respond in kind.

Deep in her heart, what Hermione really wanted to do was to reach out and embrace him. Hold him to her and tell him it was going to be alright. Take him and comfort him. But then a flash of anger hit her like the Whomping Willow. Why the hell should she comfort him! Why would he deserve to be held after what he'd done to her! This was outrageous! I must seriously be going crazy. This is so, so bloody wrong!

So instead of listening to her heart, she looked him dead in the eye, and spat the first thing that came to mind.

"I hate you."

Draco immediately lightened his grasp on her, eyes slipped from hers, lowered his arms, and took a step back as if he'd been slapped across the face. In a way, she had done exactly that with her words.

He turned and started for the door, keeping his eyes averted. He took slow step after step towards his exit. Hermione felt each click of the no doubt well-made shoes echo through her whole body. It was as if the farther he walked away, the emptier her heart became. Because once he left, who knew how long it'd be before she'd get human interaction again.

After stepping through the doorway and turning around to lock it, he gave a quick flick of his wand and Hermione was suddenly clothed in a plain t-shirt and cotton pants. It was more than she ever expected, considering she was a prisoner. She didn't dare steal her eyes away from Draco to inspect her new attire. Instead she just stood there and watched the man wizard beforw her.

Taking a deep breath with his eyes closed, he finally spoke to her. But it was as quiet as a whisper and Hermione had to strain her ears to hear.

"I deserved that. I deserve nothing more than your hate. But I want you to understand something. If you never believe a word that I ever speak to you, just believe this one thing; I truly am so, so sorry. I mean that with all of my heart… Sleep well, Granger."

And as the last word rolled off his tongue, he turned to leave her. She watched him retreat up the stairs until his whole body was out of sight. She listened to the light tap of his steps as he ascended up and out of this hellhole of a dungeon. And once she heard the door he'd left through click shut, she finally let herself crumple to the ground where she lay and sobbed until her throat was raw and her eyes were dry.

She didn't know how long had passed, it was as if she'd been in a trance for days. But in reality, it had only been an hour or so since Draco left her. And once the sobbing ended, she finally allowed herself to feel the pain of that evening. It came in one heavy sheet after another, a terrible rainstorm that wouldn't let up.

She first thought about Harry and Ron. She knew the right thing for them to do, and what she should want them to do, would have been for them to finish the mission; find the Horcruxes and then come looking for her. But she selfishly hoped that instead, they'd put off the Horcrux hunt to get her back. She knew there was no way they'd find her here, as it was definitely protected by some bloody strong spells. It didn't hurt to have a small spot of hope. But the longer she lay there, the more she realized they would probably never find her, so it would be up to her to find her way out. She was determined. And a determined Hermione Granger was not someone you'd want to stand in the way of.

Then the events of just a few hours ago struck her and a wave of nausea hit with such force that she barely had a second to make it over to a corner of the cell where she then vomited repeatedly. She couldn't get Voldemort's sickeningly smug look out of her head. He looked so pleased to watch her be tortured. It was almost as if he was going to get off on it. The same look was mirrored on most of the Death Eater's faces. These were sick and twisted men.

Then the next images that flashed in her mind were of Draco. She watched as he undid his pants and freed himself. The next image, he was hovering over her, slowly rocking into her. Then all she could see was Draco's mouth, uttering those haunting words "I'm so, so sorry," over and over again.

She felt disgusting, dirty, and impure for what he did to her. She felt nauseous about who had done this. She blamed Voldemort. She blamed Lucius for coming up with the idea. She blamed Draco for taking her. And she blamed herself. That last realization, however, was the breaking point for Hermione. She moved to a different corner of her cell, one that didn't have vomit, and lay upon the floor, crying. She cried because she hated herself for letting this happen to her. She cried for being stupid enough to pick up that Portkey. She cried because she, in her heart of hearts, believed that, for the first time in her life, that she was a weak person. And in that corner of her cell, crumpled in a ball, Hermione cried herself to sleep. She lay there all night, dreaming of nothing more than Voldemort's haunting grin, and Draco's mouth repeating those four words, over and over, until the next morning's sun woke her.

Ron and Harry had been searching and re-searching her cot for the last four hours when Ron finally fell onto his own and groaned rather loudly.

"How could she be that neat, Harry? Not a single hair on her cot? Nothing left for us with which we could find her? Where is she? Bloody hell, this is so wrong," Ron sobbed the last four words.

Neither boy wanted to believe that this was yet another dead end in the search towards finding their taken friend. Harry sat and contemplated what to do next before giving a resigned sigh.

"I don't think we should keep trying this way. I think we should give up on the tracking spell idea and instead keep thinking about other ways to find her. We're losing precious time, and we've been searching her bed for hours. We're not getting anywhere. So what would Hermione do now, Ron?"

Ron looked at his friend and then down to the table located just a foot past where their cots were aligned. Upon this table was a stack of books. Ron looked back up into Harry's green eyes and sighed.

"Let's read, mate."

Hermione woke to the small amount of light that was streaming gently through her barred window. She refused to open her eyes just yet; she already knew where she was and didn't want the instantaneous reminder. So she just stretched her arms over her head and began to roll over slowly, as several of her muscles were stiff from the day before.

Her eyes sprung open at the sound of a 'pop!' indicating that someone had Apparated into her cell. She was greeted by a most unexpected sight.

A small house elf stood before her, clothed only in a light pink pillowcase that looked as if she had personally altered it to resemble something close to a child's dress. Her dress, however, was dirty. This part didn't surprise Hermione, for she knew that house elves weren't treated with much respect, and they certainly weren't allowed to be presented with decent clothing. Because giving an elf any form of clothing would set them free, and wizards, particularly the Malfoys, were just too selfish to let that happen.

The elf had very large light blue eyes that gave off such warmth and happiness. Why would a house elf under the order of a Malfoy ever look happy? Hermione thought to herself, all the while staring at the creature before her.

Suddenly the elf bowed very low to the ground, her long ears flopping forward to lightly touch the concrete floor before she rose back up to stand at her full height and looked into Hermione's eyes. When the elf spoke, it was with a very sweet, soothing voice. Almost like a little girl trying to soothe her mummy.

"I name is Cordelia, Miss Herm-ony. I is here to bring you breakfast! I hopes you will like what Cordelia broughts you. She and the other house elves worked hard to make a meal that you, Miss Herm-ony, will like. We have heard great things about Miss, and how she is trying to help house elves like I. So we make you good breakfast!"

She squeaked with delight and snapped her fingers. A large plate appeared into the air and drifted over to Hermione. It slowly lowered until it was sitting on the floor in front of her. It was piled high with bread pudding, and fruit; Danishes and cheese. There were nuts and grapes, and what looked to be sliced peaches. There was also a few other things that Hermione didn't recognized but still made her mouth water with the tantalizing aromas wafting her way.

But instead of giving in to her grumbling stomach, all Hermione could do was sit there and stare in awe at the only creature – man or otherwise – to show her any form of happiness in this whole Manor. But she must have stared a bit too long because the elf's smile suddenly disappeared and was replaced with pouty lips as her eyes widened and started to water. Oh no, she thought, I made the only thing here that likes me sad! What did I do?

As a tear leaked down Cordelia's face, she looked into Hermione's eyes and said "Miss Herm-ony does not like the food we makes for her. I is sorry Miss. I can bring different breakfast? I is so sorry, Miss. We only wanted to make you like us…"

By the end of the house-elf's speech, she was full-on sobbing. Hermione felt terrible and jumped up, moving closer to the elf to comfort her.

Cordelia jumped back, clearly startled and then began to cry again. Hermione sat down in front of the elf and gently grabbed her hand. She pulled Cordelia into her lap and began rocking her back and forth, as though she was a small child who was frightened. The elf whimpered at first, but Hermione spoke to calm her nerves.

"There, there, Cordelia. I meant no offense to your lovely breakfast. I promise you I am incredibly grateful to you and the others for making me such a wonderful meal. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry, Cordelia."

The little elf finally stopped crying and dried the remaining tears onto her pillowcase dress. She stood up and turned around to look at Hermione once again.

"I is glad you are happy for breakfast. Cordelia just knew Miss Herm-ony would be nice to us. But you don'ts have to worry. Cordelia will not tell the Masters. I will tell them nothing. We house elves will protect our Miss Herm-ony."

Hermione was grateful for the food and the company of the house elf, but as soon as she had devoured her breakfast, the elf had grabbed the empty plate and with a snap of her fingers, after a smile and a wave to Hermione, and a soft 'crack!' the elf was gone. And then Hermione was left all alone to ponder the nightmares she'd had that night. She was still angry with herself and she spent the next several hours berating herself for being so unintelligent and weak. She kept at it until she heard the distinct sound of graceful feet gliding down the stairs.

She looked up and saw two grey eyes staring at her through the bars. Accompanied by those eyes, was elegant white hair and quite a few wrinkles. Annabelle had come back to visit.

Draco had been pacing his room since his departure from Hermione's cell. He knew he deserved her hate, but that didn't mean it didn't bloody sting when she'd said that. He knew he'd been a downright git, not to mention an evil bastard, to her at school. But he'd changed. Since he almost had to kill Dumbledore, he'd finally realized he'd been on the wrong side all along. When Dumbledore offered to help and protect him, Draco thought he was just being the batty old man that he was. But then he'd began thinking about those words over and over up until now and couldn't get that crazy old man's eyes out of his head. Dumbledore's gentle, twinkling eyes. Those eyes that held only kindness, protection, and, most important to Draco, forgiveness. And it was long after Dumbledore's death that Draco finally allowed himself to realize that he could still fight for the right side. The Light side. And he intended to do just that. From the side lines, of course, because there was no way Dumbledore's side would accept him. No way in hell. But he would do everything in his power to help them, without their knowledge, of course. And for the first time, saving his arse wasn't the reason for his actions.

But instead it was to save the wizarding world. And that changed all his plans.

And now Granger was in the dungeon, where she would surely be tortured. His plans had been coming along so well, until she showed up. His mind went blank when he saw her there, before Voldemort. And instantly he felt this pull to her, like he needed to protect her. And as he reached deep in his pockets, his fingers brushing the cold metal of the purity ring, everything clicked.

His Great Aunt had pulled him aside before the meeting and cryptically gave him the ring. And she told him to use it if he felt he needed to protect someone. And then standing there, looking at Granger, he felt such strong emotions to save her, and he knew that was why the ring had come to him. But the only thing he couldn't grasp was how could his Great Aunt have known that he would need that ring tonight of all nights?

He decided he wanted answers, so he left his room for the first time that evening in search of Annabelle. He walked down many halls and came to a spot in front of the door to a room located just above the library. He knocked gently, as he didn't want to wake her if she was sleeping. But just before he'd decided he wouldn't bother her for the evening and was about to turn to go back to his room, the door swung open. There his Great Aunt Annabelle stood, looking as if she'd been waiting for a visitor.

"Draco, darling. I've been wondering when you were going to show up. Let me guess, you want to know more about the ring?"

Stunned into silence with his Great Aunt's perceptiveness, Draco sidestepped into her room and headed towards the sofa located to the right of the entrance. She gestured for him to sit and he did. She waved her wand, and conjured two glasses that Draco assumed were full of pumpkin juice. He immediately took a sip to ease his parched mouth, and was rewarded with the sweet and tangy taste of the drink. Once Annabelle had seated herself on the sofa facing Draco she looked up at her great nephew and spoke.

"You want to know how I knew to give you the ring tonight before this very meeting, am I right?"

All Draco could do was nod his head mutely.

"Well Draco, I am going to tell you something that no one else alive in our family knows about me. Do you know what a Seer is?"

Again he nodded, but spoke up to define what she'd asked,

"A Seer is someone who has been gifted with foresight, right Aunt Annabelle?"

She looked at him and smiled. He was such a smart boy. She really did care for him so much.

"Yes Draco. But a Seer, I am not. I am what they call a Siria. It is half Seer – half witch. I can see bits and pieces of the future, but none of it usually makes sense until right before this future I see becomes the present. This morning I was drinking my tea and I had images flash through my mind. The first was Miss Granger. Then the next was you slipping a ring onto her finger. And the rest I cannot tell you. For I cannot tell you what is to come, because it may change what is supposed to be, Draco."

Draco looked at his Great Aunt, slightly puzzled. He'd learned about time-turners in one of his classes at Hogwarts and knew that if you messed with even a fraction of time, it would change future events. But he'd never heard of a Seer telling someone their future, and it messing up "what is to be." So he asked the only question that had been on his mind.

"But why did you feel I needed to specifically give Herm-Miss Granger the ring? Why not anyone else. Why in the world would I need to protect the one girl that hates me with all her heart?"

Draco bowed his head at the last part of his question. He knew Hermione despised him. And it hurt. He was so confused and frustrated with what he was feeling for her, but nothing left him as confused and speechless as his Great Aunt's next words.

"The reason I knew you were to give her the ring, Draco, is because I have seen her in your future….

"The reason that I knew I was meant to give it to you tonight is because she, Draco, is your eternal soul mate."


	8. SoulMate?

**A/N: I am so very sorry that this has taken so long for me to update :(**

Please forgive... I will be short and sweet: Thank you to my amazing Beta, _A Rogue Without Her_ Remy. And a huge thanks to all those who've reviewed! I haven't gotten to them all yet to respond, but i will try!  
>I do not own any of the characters, except a sweet little elf, and a regal Great Aunt.<p>

without further ado,

Happy Reading, loves!

* * *

><p><strong>Soul...Mate?<strong>

_Draco bowed his head at the last part of his question. He knew Hermione hated him. And it hurt. He was so confused and frustrated with what he was feeling for her. But nothing left him as confused and speechless as his Great Aunt's next words,_

"_The reason I knew you were to give her the ring, Draco, is because I have seen her in your future…._

"_The reason that I knew I was meant to give it to you tonight is because she, Draco, is your eternal soul mate."_

…

Draco gazed into twinkling grey eyes with a look plastered upon his face as if the person he was looking at was wholly and truly insane. _What did she just say? Soul mate? No, I have heard wrong, for there is no way._

As if reading his mind, his Great Aunt Annabelle replied, "No Draco, you heard correctly. She is your soul mate. Your only eternal other half. But do not be confused by that. It means purely that your souls once dwelled together in a past life. And as much as they are meant to join once again, it doesn't mean there is any trace of love, respect, or compassion here and now between the two of you. You are correct in thinking that the hatred you've held for her all these years was real. It is plain as day every time you've felt the need to label her 'Mudblood.'"

In a split second Draco had bolted up off the sofa and was hovering maliciously over his Aunt as he quietly and threateningly spat at her, "Don't call her that! Don't. Don't you dare ever use that term when you speak of her. She doesn't deserve it!"

The boy's Aunt didn't even flinch, or blink for that matter, when he'd jumped up. The knowing glint in her eyes made him uncomfortable; it was as if she knew something he didn't. And it unnerved the bloody hell out of him.

And then she challengingly replied, "Why Draco, it is not my nickname for her. I seem to remember you speaking that term an awful lot around this home in reference to the witch. I was merely using your language. But now having seen just how defensive you are about the girl in question, should I be confident in my presumption that you may have _feelings_ towards this Miss Granger?"

Draco backed away cautiously and sat back down at his end of the couch once again. He put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he thought about the realization that his relative had just presented him with. And then it dawned on him that he actually _threatened_ his Great Aunt!

Realizing his mistake and disrespect, he immediately jumped up once again to kneel before his Aunt.

"I'm so sorry for the way I just reacted. I am thoroughly disgusted with myself and my actions. I hope you can forgive the way I've misbehaved. I do not mean any disrespect to you, Aunt Annabelle."

The young Malfoy cast his eyes towards the ground in wait of a reply. He couldn't grasp any sane reason why he would react like that towards the one family member (besides his mother) to ever show him any sort of compassion and love.

Annabelle gently placed her slightly-wrinkled hands on either side of the boy's face and lifted it to its regal height once again. She gave him a genuine smile, full of understanding, and then pulled him to her in a grandmotherly hug. Draco, still feeling appalled at how he'd treated his greatest family member, felt terrible and clung to his Aunt.

"I'm so confused, Aunt Annabelle. I don't know why I reacted that way, and I don't know why I feel so protective over her. It's all just so strange to me. And with all the pressure from –"

He cut himself short before finishing the sentence. He didn't want his Aunt to know how unhappy he was. Because he just knew that if she found out, she'd try to rescue him. And that could only end with her stuck in the crossfire, a place he'd never dream of letting her near. Standing up and turning to go towards his side of the couch once again, he tried to change the direction of his Aunt's focus so she wouldn't ask what he was about to speak, and accidentally knocked over a goblet sitting on the table. It flipped off the side and fell upon the floor with a loud _clang!_

But she was not someone so easily fooled, and Draco hadn't escaped this conversation yet.

"And Draco dear, who were you saying you were feeling so much pressure from?" His Aunt spoke this while examining her perfectly manicured nails. Her nails were one of the few things that ever screamed that she was, in fact, a Malfoy. But her otherwise overly gentle demeanor was nothing like that of a traditional Malfoy.

Draco cleared his throat as if to buy himself time to change the subject, yet again. He leaned over to pick up the goblet, while nonchalantly knocking over the other. His Aunt rounded on him and looked him square in the eye.

"Quit making a mess of my chambers just as an attempt to distract me from your answer. I asked you who was pressuring you. I expect you to answer the question, my dear boy."

Draco gulped. And then took a slow deep breath. And then gulped again.

Finally regaining his composure, he stood up straighter and met his Aunt's twinkling eyes and spoke with a precise tone.

"There is no pressure. I don't know what I was babbling on about. Now I must go Aunt Annabelle, there are things that need to be taken care of."

And with that he briskly started to walk towards the door. There was nothing he was really rushing off to do, he just couldn't stand to be in this room any longer for fear that she'd figure out what he'd accidently started to say.

But he was suddenly stopped dead in his tracks by his Aunt's soft whisper. Her voice was barely audible, but he heard her nonetheless, speaking words that would later come back to haunt him, often times in his dreams.

"They are going to beat her tomorrow night, Draco. They are going to try to break her soul. But you can't save her, my boy. You won't ever be able to save her until you can learn how to save yourself..."

She drifted off at the last few words in a heart-breaking tone. He turned his head sideways, as not to look her directly in the eye, and left her with one last comment before rushing out the door.

"I don't know what you are going on about. You don't know what goes on in those meetings, and you won't ever understand. "

He did not hear her sad reply this time, as she spoke while his robes whooshed through the door, following him.

"I know more than you think, my dear boy."


End file.
